Bad Moon Rising
by Light Side
Summary: Time moves on, buildings collapse and are rebuilt, faces and names change, but one thing does not: The circle of life. We are all born from the ashes of our ancestors, their decayed bodies grew the plants that fed the animals that feed you and your kin. Fawkes knew this better than anyone else, he knew what was to come.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Nor am I making money off of this.**

 **Authors' Note: The combination of a plot bunny, and an amazing Harry Potter music video: Tom Riddle l Bad Moon Rising by YlvaJo, check it out on youtube. It's perfect.**

 **Bad Moon Rising**

Gold and red feathers littered the hard and unforgiving land beneath him; he peacefully perched upon a tree branch far above the land. As he looked around the forest, a swift breeze stirring the wildlife among them he knew this human would soon be awake. It wasn't unusual for the bird to be smug and aloof to this human, but he outdid himself this time; after all the man wasn't his master. The man couldn't deny a rare ingredient such as phoenix feathers, even if he had denied Fawkes existence. This human was a strange one, not many would reject such a powerful bird, but he had been unequivocally drawn to him, of course not in the same way as his master. It was a phoenixes life, to be drawn to witches and wizards, to seek out their owner instead of the casual way owls and cats were purchased in a pet store.

A low, heartfelt note escaped his throat, a sorrowful warmth filling the air as he remembered Albus; he had truly been worthy of his allegiance. It wasn't very often such a gift was given to a wizard, but Fawkes knew the minute he laid eyes on him that Albus was the one. He had loved the man, had gone above and beyond in his duties to him; protecting those his beloved cherished and assisting whenever possible. Any loyalty to Albus was loyalty to him and he never betrayed those who trusted in him. Years had passed since he had last seen Albus, watching his master fall from the tower had been nearly unbearable, it was as if his heart was ripped from his chest. He had sung that night; sung for his master, for all that was lost and all those who felt the loss like death had come knocking for their soul. He would never forget what it felt like, to be masterless in a world of uncertainty.

It took years to finally find a human he felt he could exist around, but when he did it wasn't what he was expecting. Fawkes had been living such a long time, and he had thought he had seen it all; but never before had he seen such an old grisly grumpy man who lived on his own in the middle of a deserted forest. The mans name was Garrett, and he hated everything human as far as he could tell. He never had any visitors and on the off chance that someone stumbled through he showed such misery to them that Fawkes often wondered why stayed near this man. What great worth did this man have? What did he do? What will he do? He stayed only for the sake of curiousity, he still hadn't quite figured out why he was there but after a while he could see how gentle and caring he was to the animals in the woods, both magical and normal.

As gentle as Garrett was with them, he seemed to hate Fawkes; but he could guess why. Albus was known to have a phoenix and after his death most people knew he wouldn't take another master. Garrett didn't seem to want him, but he had chosen to stay with him for the sake of his own sanity; it was obvious that this man seemed incapable of forgiving Albus whatever mistakes that had occurred and Fawkes was reaping the punishment. He mourned then not only for his master but for his current friend; he had seen to many men over the years fall into this trap of bitter hurt, anger and hatred, but this one he could save.

The sound of a creaking door slamming echoed through the forest as Garrett walked out, he stopped beneath Fawkes and looked up with a scowl on his face. A single red feather in his hands, quivering up at Fawkes accusingly. "Must you shed on my property you damn bird?" He growled, a glare directed at the phoenix. The bird just gave a cocky trill, his sharp talons digging into the tree.

"I bet he's just up there laughing at me right now. Meddling know-it-all, always about the greater good, wasn't so concerned about that when he was younger though, eh? Of course that's if you see good as objective and unchanging, which I doubt the old codger did." The man breathed out in annoyance, a look of contempt crossed his face before he turned away. Fawkes cooed and spread his wings landing on the wooden post of the fence in front of this smelly, unkempt man.

Garrett seemed taken aback by this and stopped in his tracks, but Fawkes merely nipped at the man's shirt. The first step was to get this man to see him as the animal he was and not Albus' pet, he knew it would take alot of time but he feared he'd have to be the one to take the first steps. Garrett seemed to yank his shirt from the birds beak and stalk off angrily. This time Fawkes stayed still as he heard the tell tale signs of the man feeding the animals in the enclosure attached to his house. It would be a lonely day then, he flitted back to his original perch and got comfortable, his eyes resting a bit, reaching out for the whispers of magic in the forest.

As it gathered in his hollowed chest it pulsated within him, shuddering the bird. It was something he did when he needed answers. After living so long one became aware of the cycle of life, the very flow of time could be felt in the gentle hum of magic that was ever present even in the muggle world. It was merely a second in time, like a grain of sand, but it could lodge in him. He sank into his own mind, into the world around him. The only thing worth focusing on in this moment was the magic rippling through his feathers, producing sparks of fire off his feathers every so often. Time seemed to slow as he found the path, he looked at the strand, tempted for a second to go back and feel the magic of his old master. He refused it, it would do no good to dwell in the past, he needed to feel out his new master. So he followed the brightly glowing strand, and let it fill him. Unsettling feelings erupted in him, the scent of the air changed around him, and as he opened his eyes he could see the forest for what it would be.

A desolate piece of land, torn and ravaged by death and fire. Where once was a home lay nothing; there was no evidence that such a place even existed in the first place. The trees were all down in a very odd formation as if a blast had gone off. The air was thick with fog, the coloring was a goldish-brown, it wasn't natural in the least. Fawkes called out desperately, wasn't there anything left alive? It was silent, too silent. No one, human or animal, answered, and his breast swelled with grief. What had his master died for than? What was the point? Where was the sense? Grief swallowed him, grief and indignation. Humans forgot too easily. He let go of the thread unable to see the truth any longer. He felt better when he could hear the safe and comforting sounds of pigs and cows, birds and squirrels nearby.

He looked at Garrett and trilled, what would come of the man? Of himself? What had happened to the world? Whatever it was he could sense it was not just in that area, that the world had come crashing down after all the sacrifices the people he loved had made. It was futile he realized, futile. He felt shame for thinking such, especially when there was still good people about, but what did it matter if they all died? He felt tears slowly leaking from his eyes, hitting the ground. He knew his tears now, or in the future, wouldn't be able to heal what was to come no matter how magical. There was no rhyme or reason to this earth. No, to humans. There was a very cycle that kept repeating, even though he hated it, he accepted it as fact.

Why did they do this to themselves? They never learned from the past, but were they incapable of such? Did the cycle trap them as much as it had trapped Fawkes? For he could not change what was to be, only witness it. And it occurred to him then, what he had witnessed so long ago. The rising of Voldemort and Harry Potter, destined for brother wands. He gave an almighty shriek as if calling to fate itself, was he to interfere once more? To play his part again? A swift breeze went through him, but it felt like hot liquid, it seemed electrified with magic. Could this be the answer once more? Wands doomed to brothers, equals, who hated each other? And what if they ended up on the same side? The side of evil? What was to come of it all. He recalled having the same questions as before, but could it really be so simple? He had his own doubts even with all his abilities.

Wisdom seldom brought peace, just as answers merely brought more questions. He knew what he had to do once more. And so in a burst of flame he disappeared, not hearing the awful word he was just referred to by, in mere seconds he reappeared quite spectacularly in what he once recalled as being a dingy old shop full of magic and cobwebs, but now it was different. He supposed it would be, Ollivanders wand shop had been destroyed by Death Eaters, he would have had to rebuild everything from scratch. His feet pressed against polished, almost greasy, shiny chestnut wood, the floors all nice hardwood floors, the windows wide and open. The only thing that seemed the same were the shelves of stacked wands in boxes all over the place. He peered around, his head tilting this way and that, but no man was to be seen. He bent down and hit the bell on the counter over.

"I'll be right with you! One second!" An elderly and tired voice said from the back. Fawkes simply walked upon the table and flew to the top shelf and stalked along as if he ruled the place, preening over himself and strutting cockily. He watched the white-haired man enter the shop, his silvery eyes peering out in confusion, "One second, I daresay the kids these days are impatient."

Fawkes chose then to flutter down in front of the man, on his desk. He simply looked up into Ollivanders eyes, boring into the depths of the silver. Ollivander took two steps back, "Oh no, Fawkes." The man seem horrified to see him, he gave an indignant squawk. Does every human hate the sight of him now? How dare they? He was a majestic, proud, rare, beautiful bird, and they turn their nose up at him? He nipped the wand-makers fingers but felt instant remorse when he the man winced in pain, he gave a gentle nudge with his head to the man's hand. Ollivander seemed to relax slightly, "My apologies dearest Fawkes, I daresay it's been too long since I've last seen you, and I can't quite forget what came of that."

Fawkes gave out a trill and twitched his back feathers, Ollivander stared, he seemed to know what he must do but was dreading it. Fawkes felt the same way as the man but there was no choice. It was meant to be. "I do wonder how long it took us to come full circle once more. Will it ever end?"

Fawkes gave a quiet trill, filled with sadness, horror and desolation; but there was hope as well for where there is death there is life. As a human body decays it feeds the earth, which feeds the plants, then the animals and humans once more grow. Death would never be the end until there was nothing left to replenish, Fawkes didn't think he could stand it if he was around to see the end of it all. The end of magic, of mankind. As bloody as this last war was it had been won, the earth kept spinning; life kept in it's cycle.

He turned around in a circle and fanned out his tail feathers for the man to choose. He felt the man gently stroking them, measuring and weighing them. He gave another indignant squawk, all his feathers were glorious! A heartbeat later he felt the uncomfortable and painful pulling and yanking sensation as part of his body was torn off. He relaxed once more, and fanned out again, giving a pain filled trill as another was ripped from his body. It hurt more than people would believe but it had to be done. He would give it all for life to be kept, for the cycle to go on, for time to exist. For love.

He turned back to Ollivander and once more looked up at him giving a small trill to the man who was looking grave, "Come what may." and with that he burst into flames once more and disappeared.


End file.
